


How's It Gonna Be

by prompto



Category: Samurai Flamenco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prompto/pseuds/prompto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single text seems to elicit a reaction to show the true nature of what their friendship has become.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How's It Gonna Be

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this came out of nowhere. I just kind of got a mood with my semi-broken Samurai-OTP right now. But yeah, first time writing this pairing so I hope it doesn’t suck too much.

Always saying how he was going to call it off sooner or later.

It always seemed like a game now.

They’d have dinner together; Goto would casually check his phone to see a new text from his girlfriend whom he could hardly even _regard_ as a girlfriend anymore.

Hazama would always casually go about cooking in return, staring out from the corner of his eye to see how the other would still pick up the phone to send a reply back to her.

“She’s wanting to come for a visit soon.”

The sudden announcement caused him to nearly dropped the spoon he was holding as he had nearly finished letting the curry warm up completely. Turning away slowly, he tried to keep a straight face as he leaned against the counter and looked over to Goto.

“Oh really? I’m sure you’re excited for that.” Flashing that fake smile he did far too often during his modeling jobs, he suddenly felt like he needed a distraction and began to head out to the living room.

The footsteps following after him made him slow a little in his pace to his destination though.

“You seem just as excited.”

“I’m _thrilled_.”

The slight waver of tone Goto detected made him feel that sudden surge and a smirk barely registered on the corner of his lips before disappearing.

“You’ve made it clear before that you don’t like her.”

Hazama stopped suddenly. “I don’t really care honestly, it’s not like she’s here on a daily basis.”

“She wants to come here for a week.”

“Well I have plenty of appearances scheduled soon, not to mention the whole vigilante thing I have on the side.”

“You wouldn’t even want to go out for dinner with us one night? I’m sure she’d want to meet you.”

That comment nearly had Hazama seeing red.

“I’m sure I could find someone to bring along. Maybe one of the girls in the new movie I’m staring in, or I know for a fact the male lead is interested in me.”

It was Goto’s turn to practically drop the phone he had in his grasp. As it broke apart on the floor, his hand instantly moved to grab Hazama’s arm in a quick effort to deter him from trying to start walking away again.

His voice was far too low to be considered a friendly tone any longer. “You and I both know you won’t do that though.”

“You can’t say that for sure.” Hazama laughed in a slightly cynical manner, the dirty blond hair falling over his eyes. “I mean..your girlfriend doesn’t even like me. She already gets jealous since she suspects something is going on, which you know is true.” It had only recently become true, but it was happening far too frequently now. Keeping it hidden like this, with the idea of having to hold himself back and act like everything was fine when she visited wasn’t anything he could handle.

He _was_ good at isolating himself though. He was even better at being used to being alone.

“We don’t even know what this is-“

“Cut the crap, we both know what this is.” Hazama tore his arm away from the other’s grasp, turning in time to look at him with a nearly dangerous gaze. The hoodie was practically strewn across his shoulder to reveal his bare skin as he faltered back to start heading further away from Goto and the situation.

Not even half a second had passed before Goto was instantly moving forward; his body colliding with the blond’s to nearly tackle him back onto the ground.

The argument of words was replaced with that of mouths pressing together. Goto’s lips were tracing down at the neck that was already coated with a fading bruise from where his teeth had been a few days ago.

Hazama couldn’t refuse him either, despite how mad and frustrating the entire situation was for him. It was getting to a point that a choice had to be made, whether or they were in this together fully or not. The calloused hands that ran along his milky-white skin to have him writhing and desperate for more were from a man that he was in too deep with.

A woman’s moan was never as intoxicating as the simplest of breaths that passed his lips. Just how he would gaze up at him as their bodies met in that consistent sound of skin meeting skin, the ever-present scent of jasmine mixed with an indiscernible scent that he could only regard as it being purely Hazama made it all the more addicting in being around him near constantly.

He could never refuse him. Finding himself being drawn to the vigilante even at night during his patrols, and unable to find himself doing anything else but being in his apartment on his days off. Now it was even worse, caught in such a trap that his thoughts only ever revolved around the one beneath him, feeling how tight he was wrapped around his cock, how sensual a gaze his lavender-colored eyes cast to him and no one else.

His legs would always spread so easily for him, being so eager for such touches and how someone could dominate his body in ways he had scarcely imagined. And each time he’d wonder just where their friendship started going wrong, what path it was even leading to now, feeling the strength to care slipping away with each thrust made and that intense atmosphere nearly suffocating him.

Still Goto was there to bring him back. His lips always running over his to initiate the roughest of kisses, becoming so deep at points that he wondered if this was what that silly emotion of love felt like.

They’d be wrapped up in one another afterward each time, talking to each other like lovers would. Unwilling to move despite knowing the dinner was more than likely far too cold to bother with by that point.

The only difference in these reoccurring events was that this time, the hints of a shadow was seen moving throughout the apartment later on that night. The phone still laying in two broken pieces on the floor as the owner put it back together long enough to send a message.

**Sent: 2:02am**

_‘We need to talk.’_


End file.
